


A Present

by eggshits



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, implied suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-18 02:28:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3552635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggshits/pseuds/eggshits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you see the end, you must have first heard the beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When you feel down, rarely do you have to ever give in to the temptation of reaching out. You entertain the idea of talking to Rose about what's going on, but you feel like you'll be a burden. As if it is a chore to deal with you. And you assume that it always is. 

On the rare occasions that you do talk to Rose, you think that she doesn't quite understand. Like the clichéd things she's telling you aren't true--because to be quite honest, they aren't. When she reminds you that everything's going to be okay, you can't think of how that would happen. You strongly believe that happy endings are only for good people, so why bother. 

You're not sure when this started, but you're completely convinced that you're a terrible person. When you see yourself in the mirror, an overwhelming feeling of hatred and exhaustion comes over you. It's as if life would've been better if you were someone else, as if you were never supposed to exist. Mirrors are only there for you to remind yourself of your existence and of how you're still the same overweight, chubby kid that you were in the sixth grade. Because even though the insults dropped after middle school, the things you told yourself in your head never quieted down. If anything, the things you told yourself were shouts echoing in the confines of your mind. The words 'hopeless' and 'insignificant' and 'worthless' reflect and bounce around like sound waves in a room. And often times, it gets to be too much to keep in. 

But the funny thing was, was that you would never tell someone that they were a useless, clumsy, idiotic fat-ass if they tripped or stumbled into someone. And you would never shout at someone for saying the wrong thing or mumbling too quietly in public spaces, but you can't help the seething hatred that you have for yourself, so that's what you end up telling yourself. 

And despite the overwhelming pride your father has for you, you can't help but isolate yourself from him and ignore the congratulatory words he says to you on a daily basis. You can't help but wonder why he would lie to you like that. You don't deserve anything, let alone false confidence. 

When you get your rank at the end of the school year, you see the ninth place ranking on your transcript and you can't help but talk to Dave about how upset you felt. He told you that you were overreacting and you had felt strong pang of guilt in your chest and a disgusted feeling with yourself in your stomach, but you simply agreed with him and told him, 'yeah! oh my god i'm such an idiot wow. i should shut up haha i'm being such a drama queen! :p'. When he replies 'no what dude thats not what I mea--' you stop reading and send him a goodbye message before signing off and ripping up your report card.

When you don't get into your dream university like you had originally planned, you berate yourself for not taking enough AP classes, for not getting enough officer positions, for not volunteering enough, for not studying hard enough. When you read the words, 'we regret to inform you that you were not acce---' you can't believe just how much you fucking hate yourself. When you continue and find, 'Your ACT and SAT scores met our satisfactory standards; however, it seemed as though there were other, more qualified candidates for our rigorous and scholarly curriculum.' You can't help but translate that to, 'you weren't fucking good enough.' When you tell Rose, she feeds you bullshit about how there were always going to be other opportunities in life, so you just sign off and read over the rejection letter ten times over before deciding that hurting yourself seemed like a good idea. 

Sometimes when you stand in front of the mirror and look over your appearance, you still notice traces of baby fat and plump arms. You still see the chubby cheeks and thick thighs and chunky body that you had. Jade tells you that your baby fat was completely gone and that you weren't chubby anymore, but you can't help but see the little rolls your stomach makes when you sit down, or how your fingers look thick and meaty instead of slender like Dave's. You remember your old nicknames like Beaver Teeth, Four Eyes, and even when people would murmur the word Fatty under their breaths, and you can't help but start crying because god it still hurts after years of keeping the words tucked away in your head. 

When you see how happy Dave is with Jade, your stomach lurches and you can't help but tell yourself that it's your fault he doesn't love you back. Because you can tell that he's ecstatic to be with Jade when his lips twitch up into a slight smile at the sight of her, and you wouldn't dare ruin that for him. You felt greedy for wanting him all to yourself, for wanting him to look at you the way he looked at Jade. And you were a godawful person for wishing that one day, he would come to you and tell you that he only ever loved you. But you've decided that he deserved all the hope and happiness in the world and if that meant you were going to get hurt, you supposed that was okay. You would sacrifice anything to make Dave happy and you continue to tell yourself that that's the way love works even when he tells you that he thinks Jade's the one. You smile as convincingly as you can while your heart slowly breaks apart and the feeling of hope bleeds out of you. 

You never told anyone about your crush on Dave, even when it got to be too much for you on some nights. Eventually, you just surrender to the thin and glaring edge of your razor rather than to the option of talking to someone. 

You now wear long-sleeved shirts and jeans for good reason.

\---

Eventually, the bad nights become more common than the good ones and the number of times that you've given yourself a deep cut that wouldn't stop bleeding should frighten the hell out of you. Instead you tell yourself that that's what bad people deserve and you are a bad person. You are a terrible person. 

Dave and Jade are still together and after their fifth year anniversary (the date March 2nd remains ingrained in your mind and you think that you're never going to forget it because it makes your chest ache every time you think about it), Dave tells you that he loves every part of her and he wished that you would find someone "just as fucking awesome as Jade is." You smile and you laugh and you tell him that that might be difficult, because with how close him and Jade are, it might be near fucking impossible for you to find love just as perfect. He had a sad smile on his face when you told him that you were happy for him, as if he felt bad for you. But you don't notice. 

When you graduate with honors from your dinky, second choice of a university, you get a couple of job offers, and end up working in a nearby lab facility to research genetic functioning and sequencing. 

At the age of 26, you still have only been in one relationship in your entire life and it's been affirmed by all three (Incredible. Three.) of your friends that it was borderline abusive and you definitely got the short end of the stick. The girl treated you like dirt and she had you completely convinced that you were always the bad guy when you didn't want to have sex with her. She seemed sweet at first though, and the only reason you had gotten out of the relationship was because Jade had stepped in and told her off. 

\---

You're sure that your life has been meaningless up to this point. The days seem to become endless and the nights seem to be the result of a blur of nightmares and reality. The recurring pain that goes through your body when you think about your life up to this point is only let out by the comfort of blade against skin, and you've become sure that something is wrong with you when you begin to realize killing yourself is a viable option. Because if you thought about it critically with a logistic point of view, a useless and sad life being ended by death seemed to be an effective solution. 

No one seems to care about you. 

You know that something is wrong with you when you type the words "hwo do I klil mylrf painlesyls" into the Google search bar. And you know that something is wrong when your eyes linger on your scars and cuts, only to imagine what would happen if you cut right where your most prominent veins lay. And you're fucking aware that you're weird in the head when you look out your apartment window and think about if it's high enough for you to die when you hit the ground. And when you type in the words "whree am I. Suppdsod to shoo t ?" in one tab with a check out for a handgun in another, you fall apart because you're a fucking useless piece of shit and there's no point in living anymore if you just want to die. 

\---

On the day that Dave and Jade get married, you're aware that it was inevitable. They love each other more than anything in the world and when you stand next to Dave watching Jade coming down the aisle in a beautiful white wedding dress, you smile. You're happy for them. You really are. 

When you give your speech, you recount the times you had with both of them with a smile and a laugh after each stupid moment you had with either of them, and stare right through Dave's aviators when you say "They were meant to be." 

Because in the end, they really were. 

When you get off the altar and the wedding is over, you rush to leave and decide to skip the reception because you know you'll throw up if you stay and watch how much they kiss and nuzzle noses and look at each other in the way that lovers do. You almost run out of the building while everyone crowds around the lucky bride and groom and you can't help how fast you're running or how far you're going, but you hear your name and when you snap around to meet Rose's gaze and pitiful look, you start shaking. There are no uncontrollable sobs or violent breakdowns when it happens, you've known this would happen for years, and you've definitely had enough breakdowns on your own private time to realize that you were never going to be loved like that. When she tells you that it is going to be okay, you snap at her and remind her that it was never okay, and that it hasn't been okay for years. 

When you arrive back at your apartment after running from the wedding, you have two missed calls from Rose, and you laugh bitterly before shutting your phone off and going into the bathroom to add more scars to your collection. 

\---

It's been a total of nine years since you started feeling like shit everyday, constantly. 

It's your 28th birthday, and your friends all moved out from New York, where you all had promised to stay and stick together.

And when you mutter the words to happy birthday to yourself on your special day, you're sitting alone in your kitchen with nothing else but the slight breeze coming from the open window.

It gives you a lovely idea. 

While you hum the tune softly under your breath, you get up from the kitchen table and walk to your bedroom. 

Taking one of the many pens that are scattered on your messy desk, you begin to scribble down on a piece of paper. For twenty continuous minutes, you're scrawling down words and crossing them out before starting on a new sentence on a new piece of paper. By the time you're done, you fold your final draft up nicely and place it delicately on top of your shut computer. 

There's a dull ache in your chest when you return to the kitchen. 

When you pull out your phone and dial Dave's number, it's a mindless action. Before you really understand what you're doing, you're climbing out the kitchen window and walking up the steps of the fire escape. 

At the sound of Dave's voice, you genuinely smile and ask him how he's doing. You ignore his comment about how he can barely hear you over the wind and you simply ask the question a little louder. 

He asks you what's going on, because hell, you haven't actually called him since you were probably twelve. 

You ignore his questioning and continue up the fire escape. 

"Dude, you're so nosy. Can't a guy just ask how his best bro is doing? Honestly." You say, as you climb up the last couple of steps to the roof, and stand to look out at the marvelous colors painting the sky around you. 

"Yeah, yeah whatever. I guess it's just weird, bro. I guess I'm doing pretty well. Jade's singing along to karaoke with the finesse of at least ten screaming children in Disneyland. And I'm just glad I've been granted the permission to leave the fucking room, because I swear there is no way this girl was ever in choir. God bless you, John. Anyways, what's up, man? By the way, happy 28th dude." 

"Nothing much, I guess? I'm just on the roof looking at cool sunrises and stuff. And thanks!"

"What a dork." 

"It's me; I'm the dorkiest." 

"Damn straight, Egbert." 

"Okay, well I just wanted to, like, say a quick goodbye and stuff? Y'know, like really quick."

"Um. Okay?"

"Uh, the note's on top of my computer if you were ever wondering or something. I just, um. Thanks? I think?"

"John, what the fuck are you talking about." 

"Shhhhhuuushhh, you're so disruptive. Sheesh. Anyways, I have a question."

"Go ahead, kid. Honestly, you're being downright confusing right now. This conversation took a one way turn straight into What-The-Fuck-Is-Egbert-Talking-About-Ville" 

"Shh!! Jeez. Okay, my question is, can I do whatever I want if it's my birthday?"

"It depends on what 'whatever' is, dude. Don't go and rob a bank, bro. I promise you; that shit isn't gonna do anything even if you're fucking broke." 

"I can do whatever I want if it's, like, not hurting anyone around me, right? Like that should be okay, right?" 

"I guess? Yeah, man. Go for it; I'm not gonna stop you." 

"Okay, cool. I just wanted to say thanks, Dave. You were a really great friend haha. I'll miss you, alright?"

"Wait, wh--"

You hang up the phone, and you throw it as hard as you can out into the streets. Your father would probably make some comment about how ungentlemanly that was of you, or maybe about how you needed to be more aware of how that could've hurt someone, but you don't seem to care anymore. 

You're really just glad that you have confirmation from the one person that you've ever loved, that you're allowed to kill yourself. 

Just as a birthday present. 

You walk around on the roof and listen to the quiet taps your shoes make on the concrete while stray taxis from the night before drive around on the streets. 

You step up to the edge of the apartment complex and stare at the worn tips of your converse peeking over the ledge of the roof. 

You look around to the empty roads and you smile to yourself. 

You're all alone, just like you were meant to be. 

You hum the old, worn-out tune under your breath as the wind blows around you and in your ears. 

"Happy Birthday, dear John." You whisper to yourself with little intonations.

"Happy Birthday to you."

You lean forward.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i cried while writing this chapter because wow i'm a fuckin' wimp, son

hi everyone! or uh, whoever finds this i guess. 

i’m john, i’m 28, and this note is going to be about why i did what i did. but um first things first! please dont be sad about me leaving. i don’t think that it’s worth it to cry over someone who didn’t really. do? anything? yeah. i’ve never been all that great at getting my points across or anything and i’ve never really thought about writing a note. this was kinda an impulsive thing? sooo yep. i don’t really know what to say and i’m sorry. i just think that i wasn’t cut out for living? it gets so hard some nights and i don’t really feel like anyone’s there for me anymore. in hindsight, i probably should’ve talked to someone or something, but i think that things are better off this way. living is so tiring! gosh, i wish i knew that growing up. 

but anyways! as a little kid, i always felt foreign and unwelcomed and 

i don’t know 

there’s always been something wrong with me i think. like, it was a mistake for me to come into this world. i think that whoever was like, “oh man! let’s make john egbert!” was one sick son of a bitch. and sick as in bad sick not cool sick. not dave sick. did i just basically compare dave to the word cool? probably. 

oh gosh!!! speaking of dave! 

um heh 

if he’s there, if he’s reading this (hi dave!!!) 

oh my gosh this is so wrong and so embarrassing and he’s married GAH

okay um. 

dave strider. i like you. and i’ve liked you for so long my heart always feels like it’s gonna go KABOOSH in my chest. you make (made? make? idk haha) me smile whenever we pester and i’m so sorry that i’m so stupid and i’m being so dumb about this and i know you’re married and it hurts again and i’m sorry. my eyes are doing the dumb watery thing and it’s just been so long since i’ve thought about this and i love you so much. i’m sorry jade. please love him more than i ever would’ve. and make him feel like he’s worthy of everything and every kiss and hug and i’m so sorry that i basically threw an axe into your relationship. you probably hate me now and i understand because i do too. 

i love him like cameron loves trisha poe in con air and i should’ve never talked about it in this letter but i am and i’m sorry. jade, please love him like it’s the last time you’ll see him everyday. and hold his hand all the time and make stupid jokes for him because that’s what he deserves and i hate myself for not being good enough to be the one to do that for him.

ok uh, now jade! and this is probably suuuper awkward now that i’ve talked about dave, but uh. hey, you’ve been such an incredible friend and i’ve always loved how enthusiastic you are about everything and i always wished that i was just as excited about everything as you are. you were basically my role model growing up oh my goodness. thank you for being you and for loving frogs and for always supporting me and going to all my piano recitals when dave had weird stuff to do and when rose had to go to her violin lessons. you mean so much to me and i’m so happy for you always. i’m always gonna be your little brother, jade. i’ll miss you :B 

ok. rose. i would like to say sorry and give a formal apology. sorry for coming to you those couple of times when we were like twelve crying about how the bullies at school were tormenting me. i’m sorry for all the times that i was such a burden!! goooooooosh you had your own life and i always stomped in at the wrong times when i was little kid! anyways, i just wanna tell you that you were like the best support in the world when i needed you and when i actually told you stuff haha. i know that you knew something was up with me these past couple of years and i want you to know that i love you so so much! i apologize that i never talked to you about my problems recently and that i never 

i don’t know

that i never was enough to support you as well, i guess. 

alright! uh, as for my dad!

i’m sorry that i left you just like mom did. you don’t deserve this at all and i’m sorry that you weren’t enough for me when i heard you praise me like every other second. i love you i love you i love you for teaching me piano and letting me learn cool things about types of hats and for buying me movies every friday when i was little. you were a model father and you were the perfect parent and i’m sorry that I grew up so messed up. 

i’m just so tired, guys. i can’t keep up the happy and dorky and cheery act anymore because it hurts. everything hurts too much and i can barely get up in the mornings let alone go anywhere during the day. work is awful and terrible and half the people in the lab hate me because sometimes i work too slowly and none of you guys see me anymore. and i’ve been drinking so much lately to forget about stupid stuff and it’s so hard to deal with anything except for with alcohol or cutting and man oh man i can’t believe i used to be afraid of hurting myself because now it’s the one of the only things that help. 

i’m tired and i’ve been thinking about killing myself for awhile. because i know that everything’s going to better if i go quickly and easily and i know that you’re all going to be okay. 

there aren’t enough words in the english language to describe how 

how okay i’m going to be. 

i know that everything’s going to be alright if i do this and i know that no one’s going to miss me and that thought used to hurt but now i’m ok because i know this is the right thing to do. there’s nothing else in the world that can fix me except for this. i know it. 

i’m sorry everyone. 

thanks for making my twenty eight years of living something. i’m glad that for all the bad things that have happened, i had the little moments with all of you. 

this is just a present for me. for my birthday. and i couldn’t have asked for anything more. 

-john egbert


End file.
